


Please, Touch Me, I Pray

by Soul_in_the_Starlight



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Denial, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-13
Updated: 2012-11-13
Packaged: 2017-11-18 14:21:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/562007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soul_in_the_Starlight/pseuds/Soul_in_the_Starlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“There is no fulfillment that is not made sweeter for the prolonging of desire"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please, Touch Me, I Pray

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the following prompt at bondkink.livejournal.com
> 
> Craig!Bond/Eve Moneypenny, Other services, Skyfall missing scene(s). Besides shaving him, what other 'services' did Moneypenny provide for Bond?

Bond knows that _technically_ , that wasn't a textbook erotic shave, but the size and firmness of the erection now straining the towel wrapped around his waist begs to differ.

The feel of the girl's warm fingers and the cool metal of the blade, mixed with the heady perfume that rose from her throat as she carefully made short work of his stubble with the razor, had proved exceedingly erotic indeed.

If she'd caught a glimpse of his eager cock pointing towards her, she hadn't mentioned it, her pretty face had been pre-occupied with declaring his face a no-hair zone, and given her poor aim with a gun, Bond suspected that she would have been mortified if she'd nicked him with the razor, thus adding further insult to injury.

He checks his watch, they have some time to kill. His mind idly wanders to how he might have spent it if the new quartermaster hadn't been such a wuss about flying, and although he's no stranger to homoerotic encounters, he's not so sure Q's arse would look as good in his slacks as the girl's does in that dress.

He realises that he doesn't even know her name.

"So what do I call you? Designated numbers are a little impersonal, don't you think?"

The girl turns round from the sink where she's been washing the razor and smiles, and Bond isn't sure he likes the look of triumph that accompanies it.

"I think impersonal is entirely appropriate, Double-O Seven, after all, this is business, is it not?" she arches a brow and his cock further strains against the towel. This time her gaze drops, and the hungry look that accompanies her tongue moistening her lips is a positive sign that she's noticed it.

Bond grins and hooks a thumb in the towel, letting it drop to the floor.

"So what do I shout when I come?" he asks boldly, standing with his hands on his hips, his cock more than ready to find out.

The girl picks up a towel and dries her hands. She tilts her head to one side, and lets her gaze run over him, from head to toe and back up to his groin.

"Well," she begins, slowly approaching him, looking him in the eye, "I'm quite happy to be called 'Miss', 'Mistress', or 'Ma'am'. Take your pick."

Bond feels a surge of adrenaline shoot through him as she draws closer. She reaches out her right hand, and taps the head of his cock with her index finger, making it twitch and swell further. Bond gasps involuntarily, and she smiles with that same triumphant look again.

"Don't let me get in the way of you taking care of business, I'll just sit over her on the bed and watch."

The girl lightly taps his cock again and then withdraws her hand, brushing past the naked agent and walking over to the bed. Bond is confused, he turns round to face her.

"What are you doing?"

She smiles and makes herself comfortable.

"You wanted to know what name to shout when you come, you have an erection... so I did the maths: you want to wank over me. I'm flattered. Now, am I alright like this, or do you need to see a bit more flesh?"

Bond feels weirdly uncomfortable, this was not how he expected it to play out. But maybe she's teasing, maybe if he gets her naked...

"A _lot_ more flesh would be nice," he says, hoping his voice doesn't sound too desperate.

She stands up, and begins removing her clothes, not taking her eyes off him.

"Do get started, I won't be a minute," she says, and Bond weighs up the situation, deciding that two can play at her game, and awkwardness just won't do, so he boldly grasps his cock in his right hand, and strokes along it's length.

The girl is down to her underwear, her pert breasts look like a bra is just gilding the lily, and when she removes it, he sees he was right, they sit proudly on her chest, the dark nipples stiff and inviting, the thought of rolling them between his fingers and lips making his hand work faster.

Her panties have bows at the hips, and she pulls on them, the sheer fabric separating and falling to the floor at her feet, leaving her naked. Bond can't help the groan that reverberates in his throat at the sight of her. He takes a step towards her, but she holds her hand up.

"I don't remember saying you could touch. Well, not me, anyway. But _do_ carry on touching _yourself_."

Bond feels a stab of anger and her teasing, but realises it's frustration. His balls are aching, and he hasn't got any lube on his hand, so he can't stroke himself as roughly as he needs to. He hopes she isn't going to keep up this teasing for much longer.

He squeezes himself, hoping the tightness will make up for the lack of friction. She's sitting on the bed again, leaning back on her hands, her thighs slightly spread, giving him a hint of pussy to feed the frustration.

" _Please_?" 

She looks at him with slightly narrowed eyes.

"Please what?" she asks, spreading her thighs a little wider.

"Please... _Ma'am_?" Bond replies, hoping it's the right answer.

She looks at him, her gaze focused on his cock, and he fists himself more enthusiastically, hoping she takes it as a hint that he really, really needs her help.

"Please Ma'am what? Is there something you want me to do?" She sits forward a bit, and brings one hand round from behind her, cupping her own breast, pinching and pulling on the nipple before sliding it down her belly and towards the neat patch of curls at her centre.

Bond hears himself whimper.

_Christ, what is she doing?_

He can hardly force himself on her, but the teasing little bitch is going to get such a hard pounding if she does let him fuck her.

She leans back so that he can get a good view of her slender middle finger disappearing into her slit. He can hear how moist she is as she slicks it back out again. She holds her hand out, and beckons to him.

He walks forward, mindful not to look to eager, his right hand still squeezing and tugging on his hot, angry cock. 

She looks up at him as he stops in front of her, his legs between her thighs. If she closes them, she'll have him trapped. She holds her hand up to his mouth and he closes his lips around the moisture on her finger, slowly sucking her juice from it. She smiles at him wickedly.

"I think you could do with some lube on your cock, don't you?" she looks up at him, and he can see the arousal in her eyes.

He reaches for her cunt, but she catches his hand in her own.

"Let me," she says, her voice breathy.

She spreads her thighs wider still and leans back again, slipping her free hand down to her wetness. She slides two of her fingers in and out, her head thrown back, eyes closed in concentration, her breaths shallow and rapid as she finger-fucks herself right in front of Bond.

He _really_ needs to come.

The sticky wet sounds of her working her dripping pussy are too much, and his balls feel like lead, heavy with desire and frustration.

" _Please_ ," he doesn't care now if he sounds desperate, she looks so glorious as she sits there frigging herself into oblivion, he's pretty sure she won't stop now until she's made herself come.

She's moaning now, long throaty noises that go straight to his cock. She suddenly lays herself flat on the bed, bringing her knees up, her right hand working her cunt as her left goes to town on her breasts. She starts writhing, her back arching, and Bond desperately wants to be inside her, but she's apparently forgotten he's there.

Bond lets go of his cock, dropping to his knees in front of her, watching her fingers as they dip in and out of her wetness. Her left hand forsakes her breasts now, joint the right, dabbing and rolling over her clit as she squirms and moans.

He takes a chance and grabs her legs, throwing them over his shoulders, his arms underneath her bent knees. He grabs her wrist and tears her hands away from her dripping cunt, revelling in the cry of indignant frustration.

Then his tongue is buried inside her, feeding on her heat and softness like a starving man. She tries to regain control of her arms, but he holds her tightly, and she's too close to coming to try and suffocate him with her thighs. He licks up her slit until his tongue finds that little nub of flesh that will be her undoing, his own frustration confined to the nagging ache in his loins, his cock pressed against the bed as the tip of his tongue deftly sends her into paroxysm of pleasure that makes her almost scream as she bucks and tenses beneath him, a gush of fluid covering his chin.

He throws her legs off unceremoniously and slips four fingers in and out of her a couple of times, coating them in her juices before sliding them around his cock.

She sits up, looking surprisingly angry for someone who just had such a vocal orgasm, and uses her foot to push him off balance. He falls back on the floor, and she throws herself down after him, grabbing his sticky cock in her still juicy hand and pumping it furiously.

Bond lays there, letting it happen, power games be damned, he just needs needs to empty his balls. Her hand is squeezing and pulling and he feels the tingle in his balls as his orgasm starts to unfurl, and he's gasping as he feels it, so close... _so close..._

And then she stops. Bond whines with frustration.

"That was very... _presumptuous_ of you, Double-O Seven, taking over a lady's orgasm like that. So I think that now I'm going to take over _yours_."

Bond can barely move, every nerve is on red alert for an orgasm that hasn't happened, and his brain has pretty much turned to mush.

Before he can even try to protest, her mouth is on him, her tongue doing a delicious swirling motion along his shaft as she slides him in and out.

Once again, that tightness and anticipation in his balls, his chest heaving as he feels his toes curling, heels digging in to he carpet, here it comes....

And she pulls away.

" _No_!" he yells, banging his head on the floor, hips lifted towards her, begging her to continue.

She's positively purring as she takes him in her hand and squeezes the base of his cock. Bond whimpers, it's almost painful, and he wants, no, _needs_ to come, he feels like he'll actually die if he doesn't.

The vixen is actually smirking as she pumps him with slow, deliberate strokes, with just that tiny twist at the end that makes his hips rise up. He's drenched in sweat, and he's actually shaking slightly now, and when she looks him in the eye, it's wide black delirium she sees in his saucer-width pupils.

"Relax," she whispers, easing up on the friction, putting a hand on his chest and coaxing him down from the edge a little. When his breathing evens out, she leans down to kiss him on the lips, softly, tenderly, her tongue darting in just enough taste herself on his. Bond's hips are still pushing up against her hand, but he's so mind-fucked with frustration he doesn't even think to lift his hands to her breasts as they dangle tantalisingly over him. 

She moans softly against his mouth and he groans in to hers, coasting on a plateau of physical intensity.

Suddenly, her mouth is gone from his and fastened back on his cock, doing things - oh God, such fucking _awesome_ things - but he's now scared she'll stop, and his climax is building, and if she stops now, he _knows_ he'll die. 

Hot tears burn his eyes, he _can't_ be denied this time, he _has_ to come, he just _has_ to, and a sob escapes him as she increases the hot wet suction around him and then it bursts - the orgasm rips through him like a tidal wave, and in the dim distance of reality he feels her hands pin his hips to the floor, as he comes in great spurting waves that seem to go on forever, pouring himself into that wicked, teasing mouth, her hum of appreciation vibrating around his cock, as he fills her throat with a seemingly endless torrent of cum.

" _Thank you, Ma'am_ ," he manages to whisper.

She slowly sits up, with a gleam in her eyes. 

And swallows.


End file.
